


Fage

by Flutterbeam (aretia)



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aretia/pseuds/Flutterbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is silly, but Erlica needs more love.</p>
<p>No one wants to get caught eating Erlich’s yogurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fage

Erlich opened the fridge, saw one fewer tub of Fage yogurt than he remembered, and flew into a rage. “Dinesh, if I catch you eating my yogurt I’m going to fucking kill you!” he roared.

Monica was standing with her back to the kitchen entrance when Erlich stomped in. She leaned down ever so subtly, placed the yogurt cup on the end table, and turned around, positioning her body in front of it. “Oh, hello Monica,” Erlich said, dripping honey over his bitter tone.

“Hi, Erlich,” Monica answered with a huge, nervous grin. “What’s going on?”

“One of those parasites made off with my Fage yogurt again. You wouldn’t happen to know who it was, would you? Maybe if I get a good look in Dinesh’s trash can…” He trailed off, tilting his head to look behind Monica. She shifted on her feet, but he was already reaching for the table and his arm brushed against her waist as he grabbed the yogurt cup. “What is this?” he demanded.

“Look, Erlich, I’m really sorry. I never would have done it if I knew how much this yogurt meant to you. It’s just that Laurie sent me over here for an emergency meeting right between two other ones at Raviga, and Jared’s not here so I had to talk to Richard about business stuff which took twice as long, and she didn’t let me take a lunch break…”

“No, Monica, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me,” he interrupted.

“I’m sorry—you just said you would ‘fucking kill’ Dinesh if he was the one doing it,” Monica pointed out.

“That’s because I hold the people I live with to a certain standard of decency,” Erlich seethed. “Whereas you have betrayed us so many times that I’ve come to expect it from you.” He pushed past her and stormed down the hall to sulk in his room, slamming the door behind him.

Monica exited the house, but lingered in the doorway. She didn’t want to leave Erlich like this. As obnoxious as he usually was, this was even worse. She felt bad for the people who had to deal with him and for Erlich himself. He must be feeling down about something to be acting so exceptionally, well, Erlich.

On the surface, he was patently unlikable. He was rude and pretentious. He had no friends. If it weren’t for him hosting the office of Pied Piper and being on its board, she would never have to see him again, and she thought she would be happy with that. But Monica prided herself on her ability to see the best in anyone, and she had always believed that underneath Erlich’s loud and hostile persona was a sensitive soul who just wanted to be heard. And no one was listening right now. This wasn’t about the yogurt. He didn’t feel assured that the people in his own house would respect his fucking personal space. She sure wasn’t helping, either. 

It alarmed her that she was thinking of Erlich Bachmann in such a sentimental light. His negative energy must have gotten to her, too. She shook herself out of her reverie and trotted toward her car—she was already thirty minutes late to another meeting, after all.

Jared’s Chevy Volt pulled up in the driveway. He got out. “Jared! Where were you? I needed to talk to you,” Monica called. 

“Oh, hi, Monica. I was out grocery shopping,” Jared said over his shoulder, reaching into the back seat to pull out five overstuffed reusable grocery bags. Plastic bags were banned, so if you bought more than you could carry, that was your tough luck. Only in Silicon Valley.

“Here. Let me help you,” Monica insisted, rushing over to help him carry the groceries. He didn’t let go, and one of the canvas bags spilled. Monica kneeled down to pick up the contents. “Fage yogurt?”

“Yeah. Erlich is very possessive of the stuff. I thought I’d buy him some more to placate him before he actually strangles someone,” Jared explained.

“Yeah, I know right? I got caught in that storm a few minutes ago. I ate some of the yogurt,” Monica confessed. 

“And lived to tell the tale,” Jared laughed, mostly to himself.

“This was actually a really great idea,” Monica said. “Do you mind if I steal it? I need to apologize to Erlich. I’ll pay you back for the yogurt, of course.” Making things right with Erlich meant a lot to her. Unlike most people who borrowed from their friends, she was reliable. She was already jotting down in her mental agenda to withdraw fifty-some dollars from the ATM for twenty cans of yogurt, and maybe stick it in a thank you card with birds on it. Jared would like that.

“Um, sure. Go ahead,” Jared replied, a little taken aback by the proposition. He had his own opinions about stealing ideas—or yogurt, for that matter. But that wouldn’t stop him from helping a friend.

“Thank you!” Monica said, heaving the bag over her shoulder and darting back inside the house. 

Erlich was now sprawled on the couch in his kimono, facing away from the door. He heard Monica’s heels clacking into the room and sighed dramatically, “Try as I might, I can’t stay mad at you. You’re a traitor, but a beautiful one.”

Monica was thrown off by the compliment for a moment, before she remembered that was more of Erlich being Erlich and rolled with it. “Thanks. I actually came to give you an apology… and this.” She held up the bag of yogurt cups and rattled it like they were treats for a dog.

“You think you can make this better with gifts, Monica?” Erlich turned around. “Wait. Is that…” 

“Yup. I—” she felt guilty about this too but Jared was on her side, and she’d pay him back, she swore— “bought you a ton of Fage yogurt, to make up for stealing one earlier.”

“Monica,” Erlich said. He stood up and walked over to face her. He took the bag from her hand and placed it on the table. “It’s pronounced Fa-yay.” Then he enfolded her in a tight hug that lifted her off her feet and nearly cracked her back. 

She tentatively placed her hands on Erlich’s back. “You aren’t seriously this emotional over yogurt, are you?” she whispered into his ear, her face smothered in his golden curls.

“No. I’m not,” Erlich said. Monica wanted to pry, to find out what was really going on, but she realized that was a huge admission for him in itself. Erlich’s image was that he didn’t care about anything but the most petty and self-centered concerns, and that mask was cracking open. The rest would come in time. Until then, Monica would rely on her sharp intuition, which had gotten her this far. For some reason, she was excited at the prospect that she might finally get to see Erlich’s sensitive side. Especially if it involved more warm, soft hugs.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Erlica fic I wrote that led me to conclude "I have no ideas." I really wanted to write an Erlica get-together fic, but this is the natural ending. At least it’s a good set-up for future, better Erlica fics!


End file.
